


A Light in the Darkness

by Purplepoctopus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplepoctopus/pseuds/Purplepoctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2014, and the end of days is quickly approaching. Bela Talbot runs a shop on the outskirts of Dean Winchester's camp, and she's mostly left alone. Isolated by her nightmares, the distance, and the scar on her face, Bela prefers being out in the woods to interacting in the camp. She's all for the end of the world, lighting the candle, until a certain angel shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Light in the Darkness

            Bela considered it a miracle that she had gotten out of Hell when she did. However, it was now 2014 and the Croatoan virus had spread throughout the world. One drop of Croat blood and you were done. A zombie like them. There was no cure, save for shooting the victim in the head. She had never been cut out for the hunter's life, but these days people had no choice _but_ to be hunters. They set up in camps and tried to get by day to day. Some people lived, some died, but that was always how the world worked. Now, things were just sped up. Less people were born, more kicked it. C'est la vie.

            She ran a shop on the edge of the camp, where the refugees would deal with her out of necessity to pick up things like beans and canned food that they needed. Most people made their interactions with her short and sweet, because of what Dean Winchester had told them about her, but... she wasn't like that anymore. Not after Hell. She mostly kept to herself and ran her shop, occasionally stealing from rival camps or making trips to ransack abandoned shops. The only people who would talk to her freely and for a long period of time were Joanna Harvelle and sometimes Castiel, if he was stoned enough.

            If she got ahold of some moonshine, Dean Winchester was always the first to try to be her best friend. Even though he kept most of the campers away from her, she didn't mind him so much. They'd crack open the flasks and get so hammered they'd pass out on the floor of her hut, huddled together, sometimes they fucked each other out of frustration. But, he was a fair-weather friend, always leaving once the buzz disappeared. Bela would awake to an empty floor, a bucket next to her, with her hair tied up. Alone again. But, that was the end of the world. Everyone ended up alone at some point.

At least he had the decency to make sure she didn't die.

            Sometimes others would stop and chat. Maybe, Bela thought, they could get a good deal on some item that they needed. She wasn't stupid, though. She could see right through their too-big smiles, the smiles that seemed out of place on stress-creased faces. Everyone at camp looked older than they actually were. Bela wondered if she had succumbed to the same fate. Looking in the sliver of cracked mirror every morning was a challenge. She was still pretty, but she didn't have the sharp, aching beauty she once had. Her face was usually streaked with dirt, and the scar that cut across her cheek ruined it for her. But, she got it saving someone from a Croat. And that made her feel good.

            But the scar kept her from being who she used to be. Maybe it kept Dean from staying, or kept people from talking to her. But, everyone had their scars. Beauty wasn't easy to find these days, especially not when death was lurking around every corner. Especially not when Sam Winchester, the Boy King, wasn't Sam. He was Lucifer, and that's how everything changed.

            So, when a new man walked into her shop, looking for gauze and a box of ammo, Bela automatically assumed he was just making small-talk to be polite. She caught the blond man in the gray v-neck staring at her cheek, staring at the imperfection that marred her face. "Excuse me." Bela snapped, turning away to fix the shelves, even if they were already perfect. "But if you're not going to get anything else, you should leave." The corner of the man's mouth twitched, as if it wanted to curl into a smile, but couldn't. He just stood there, trying to figure out what to do or say, but he was met with another, "Leave!"

            "Did you get that in combat?" The man asked, reaching out a hand to touch her face. She froze up, letting his rough, calloused fingers traced the line on her face before swatting it away and turning again.

            "Yes. Got into a fight with a Croat." Bela swallowed, looking the man over from the corner of her eye. He had an accent like hers, definitely wasn't from around here. "Who are you? And why are you here?" Her voice quivered a bit, as she was still processing the fact that she let him touch her scar, but her expression remained stiff and angry.

            "My name's Balthazar. I'm traveling through to see my brother, Castiel." While Balthazar spoke, Bela slipped her hand under the counter until her hand rested over the cool metal of her gun. She had originally bought it when it was a thief's life she lived, but it had barely seen any use these days. Croats were usually fought with shotguns. Not that she did much fighting these days. But, she felt the need to pull one on this man. He made her feel vulnerable. At least when Dean Winchester touched her scar, she knew he was drunk. Drunk and guilty. Because even after Dean broke her in Hell, she still jumped in front of him to give him some time. _Because that's what a decent human being would do._

            "You're not visiting Cas." Bela said, pulling up her gun. "He says the rest of the angels are dead. Dead or they're trying to accelerate the apocalypse." Her voice was steady, cold. She had never met a full angel before, though, she wasn't sure if this man _was_ an angel. He could be lying. Or he could have fell as well.

            "Bela, I've known you for a lot longer than you think. Put the gun down. We'll find somewhere to talk."

 

            She followed Balthazar through the woods, her work boots pressing into the mud with a squish, every step, every time. Balthazar seemed to float on air, even though he was walking just like her, until they made it to Cas' cabin. For once, it didn't have piles of women in it, trying to seek a small amount of pleasure in a world that was falling apart, but it did still reek of marijuana smoke and sex. The fallen angel in question was sleeping on his cot, a pillow over the back of his head to block out the cracks of sunlight. He didn't stir very much, only groaning when he felt the change in air pressure, felt the prescence of two more bodies in the room. "What do you want?" He groaned, sitting up slowly. "The orgy's not until fo--Balthazar?"

            "Castiel." Balthazar said with a nod. Bela looked at the two and raised an eyebrow. So, he was legit.

            "You came back." Castiel observed, running a hand through his hair. He was still slightly stoned, but Bela was used to that Cas. She never met him when he was a full angel. Never cared to. Angels never did anything for her, so they weren't her concern.

            "Look at that," Balthazar said, shrugging, "I did. You never told me you knew her."

            "Didn't think you still cared." Bela was confused with the conversation, but they were talking about her. She could feel it in her skin and it made her feel dirty. She preferred to lurk in the shadows. First a thief, then a loner. Her nightmares kept her from most of the camp, secluded her to the outskirts so no one would confuse her screams with those of someone being bled on by Croats. It happened once, back when she lived in the main cabins. Dean knew what was going on, but Bela couldn't look him in the eye. After all, she had been dreaming about him.

            "Don't talk like that, Castiel." Balthazar said with a frown. Bela took a step backwards and twirled her hair around her fingers to give herself something to be preoccupied with. She felt as if she was eavesdropping into the angels' conversation, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. After all, they were talking about her. Bela felt as if she should speak up, but she stayed silent. That was the role she had taken in the camp. Keep quiet. Supply goods. Keeps people from staring. "I've never given up on looking for her."

            "Looking for me?" Bela finally managed to get out, before swallowing hard. She hadn't meant to speak up like that, interrupt them. Though, once she started she couldn't stop. "Why would you look for _me_?"

            "You don't know?" Castiel said with a slow chuckle. "Bal's the one who raised you from perdition."

 

            The new information hit Bela like a ton of bricks and she bolted out of the cabin, back through the woods. She knew if any Croats were nearby, she'd be an easy target, but she didn't care. At this point, she was too tired. Her head hurt from the smell in Cas' cabin and even if it wasn't pulsing, this life, living in a world that just wouldn't end, it was tiring; it was torture. Bela felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders and she nearly screamed. Not because she particularly cared if she was ripped apart, but out of habit. Even if she didn't care about her life, everyone else seemed to care about theirs. Why, she didn't know. However, the hands on her shoulder's were Balthazar's. Light, warm, effortless.

            "Don't touch me." She snapped, putting her hand up to her face out of instinct. Touching her cheek, her scar, it calmed her down. However, when she ran her hands over the familiar spot, she couldn't find the raised mound of scarred flesh. Of course. Angel. Bela should have known.

            Instead of being grateful, Bela scowled and backed against a tree when he let go. "Bela..." he began, trying to calm her down. However, she wouldn't have it. She didn't want this. She saw how Dean Winchester and Castiel were. She didn't need to live that life dependant on some angel with a few party tricks up his sleeve.

            "Come to my cabin later if you want to talk. Because at the moment I need to think, Balthazar." Bela said with a huff, pushing past him to make her way through the rest of the woods. She needed to get to sleep so she'd be ready for the crowd of people who came to shop during the night patrol. Word had gotten out that Bela had gotten ahold of some prison wine that wasn't especially vile and she knew Dean Winchester would be stopping by soon enough. She didn't particularly want to see him, so she'd probably hand him a flask and turn him away. So what if his feelings were hurt? Bela Talbot didn't need anyone but herself. Never did and never would.

 

            Sure enough, Dean Winchester showed up way before Balthazar did. As always, he knocked on the window of Bela's cabin, three knocks, a pause, then two more. It was the same as always, and every time, Bela would come walking up, sleep in her eyes, and unlock the door to let him in. "Dean." She greeted, not giving him any more than that, as neither really wanted it. He'd nod, maybe say her name, then step inside and lean against the wall. He never really looked like he wanted to stay, but then again, most people wouldn't like to be reminded of the person they became at their darkest time.

            "Your face..." Dean muttered, pointing to his own cheek to show that he noticed something was up. "What happened to the scar?"  
            "Met an angel. He's actually on his way... So, let's make this quick. You got payment?" Bela said, leaning with a hand on her hip. The look on her face was one of no-nonsense. Sometimes Dean would try to wiggle out of paying her by getting her drunk on her own wares, but in the end he'd always cough something up.

            "An angel, huh?" Dean said, reaching into his pockets with a surprised expression. Bela couldn't tell if he was surprised because she knew an angel other than Cas, or surprised that she was being so sharp with him. Quick, businesslike, and to the point. She wasn't playing games tonight, but Dean still tried to drag out the encounter. "He yours?"

            "Mine? Dean, what do you..." She stopped, thinking about the handprint scars on his shoulders. Castiel. Dean's. Dean's guardian angel. Her hand went down to her hips, the marks that she had matched with Dean's during those nights. The hands were different, from different beings, she could tell that, but they meant the same thing. Meant that they were saved. "I think you should go, Dean." Bela said softly, handing him the flask in exchange for a mojo bag from Dean's pocket. She tossed it into a basket with some other things, then turned back.

            "Bela..." He began, reaching out a hand. He was trying to make things work. Trying to be her friend. Castiel had told him a lot about her, and maybe, just maybe she was the kind of friend he needed. If he could get her forgiveness, then maybe he could finally forgive himself for breaking her--for breaking anyone. Because even though it had been a long time, he was still haunted at night by the screams, the screams that he caused.

            "Go, Dean. I'll see you at council tomorrow." And this time, he had to obey, taking a sip of the swill that was the bathtub-brewed wine. It wasn't the cheap whiskey he was used to, but it burned well enough and that was what he needed. Something to make him forget, something to burn like the flames that he left, all those years ago.

 

            It was a miracle that the world even made it to 2014, with the way that people were being bled on by Croats left and right. Two years ago the virus was released, and two years later, everything still seemed bleak. Sometimes Bela just wanted Dean to say yes to Michael so they could end it all. End everyone, everything. And other times, well, she was glad Dean held strong, hopeful that they could get Lucifer out of Sam. It was a longshot, but it was a nice hope, to think of the world going back to normal.

            Bela kept on thinking about the cycle of the apocalypse after Dean left, and soon she decided that sleeping again might be a good option. Balthazar hadn't shown up, it was doubtful that he would, and no one was showing up from night patrol. She was as good as out when she heard a flutter of wings and nearly fell off her cot. "Jesus Christ." Bela hissed, holding her chest. "You bloody well nearly gave me a heart attack."

            "I would have revived you." Balthazar said with a chuckle, sitting down next to Bela. "There are some questions you need answered before you're allowed to bite it, Love." He saw Bela flinch at the term of endearment, but he didn't say anything about it. She looked up from the ground and nodded, agreeing with him, though reluctantly.

            "Why me?" Bela asked, pulling out the big one without any buildup. It was all she really cared about, anyway. "Why did you rescue me?"

            "Because, Bela Talbot, you're more important to this world than you could ever know." The angel pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, and soon Bela was back asleep, lying on her cot. In the morning, when she awoke, she swore the night was a dream. At least, until she found a fluffy white feather under her pillow.

 

            Bela didn't see Balthazar at council the next day, and she could barely keep her eyes on Dean. While she was more awake and alert than her normal days, she kept looking around the room for the angel, waiting for him to come back. She wanted to know more, but she figured it wouldn't be that simple. After all, if demons never talked straight, she figured angels were just as cryptic. "Right, Bela?" She heard, snapping her out of her daydream. It was Dean. She didn't know what he was asking, but she nodded and smiled.

            "Right." Castiel snickered behind him, knowing exactly what was going on, and the room erupted into snide sneers.

            "Anyway. There's been word of a group of Croats headed this way. We'll have to protect the camp in any way possible." Dean continued, seemingly forgetting about Bela and her getting sidetracked. He tended to do that. And Bela couldn't blame him.

            Before the meeting was over, Bela swore she saw a glimpse of gray v-neck, and she tried to sneak over to the door. If Dean was going to call her out, she had an excuse prepared. Restroom. Lady problem. Always got Dean to shut up. But, Dean didn't notice, or he didn't care. Maybe he knew more than he was letting on, but that wouldn't shock Bela too much.

            She found Balthazar in the hallway, smiling and leaning against the wall, as if he was waiting for her. "Yes, Dear?" He asked, slipping a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. Bela caught his eyes and she winced after staring for a beat too long. An angel. An angel that wanted her. "Is there something you need?"

            "A miracle would be nice." Bela said with a small chuckle. "But, I'll settle for some answers." Balthazar nodded and wrapped his arm around her with a small smile, his thumb brushing under the hem of her top, and grazing the scar from his hands. She nearly jumped out of her skin from the sensation, like happiness and terror and sexual energy and warmth. Pure electricity.

            "Bela?" Balthazar said, a look of concern on his face when Bela went quiet, her expression growing more calm. The angel's touch made her feel like she was flying. It felt good. Better than anything she had felt before.

            "What just happened?" She asked, leaning against the wall to break from his fingers.

            "We have a bond, Bela. We're bonded because I raised you from Hell." She nodded, still wondering why exactly she was so important, but Bela didn't press the question any more. Maybe, in time, she'd find out. At the moment, she wanted to figure out what was going on with the angel.

            "Do Dean and Cas have one?" Bela asked, trying to understand the relationships between angels and their charges. Balthazar nodded, but looked solemn.

            "They do. But it's a different kind of bond. What we have... It'd take a lot more to warp it into... whatever they are. I'd rather not talk about _Dean Winchester._ "

            "I don't usually enjoy talking about him either." Bela said before going quiet again, resting her chin on her hand to keep her from opening her mouth about him again. Balthazar already knew what happened in Hell between them. She didn't need to tell him. It wasn't important. Dean Winchester, though important to the world, was not important to her. At the moment, she just wanted to stay with Balthazar. There was something, something drawing her to him, like a moth to a flame.

            "What do you enjoy talking about?" Balthazar asked, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. Another shiver went through her body, but she didn't pull away this time. "You used to be a thief. Tell me about your favorite heist."

            "Used to be being the key word." Bela said with a sad chuckle. Truth be told, she missed the old days. But since less was being made, there was less to steal. People had no money to buy her wares with anyway, so most of her amulets and cursed objects were just rotting in Croat infested storage facilities. "But... There was this one time... I stole the Hope Diamond. Of course, it's cursed, but if your skin doesn't touch it, you can't claim ownership." Her face curled into a smile as she reminisced, the entire day flashing in her memory like a movie. Bela wondered if Balthazar had anything to do with it, but when she moved her head to look at him, she was met with his lips on hers.

            Their kiss lasted for what seemed like forever. It started out soft and light, but as it went on, hands held heads closer, crushing their mouths together as if the world depended on them kissing. When they finally pulled away, Bela's lips her puffy and a little sore, and her body was shaking all over. "That was..." She breathed, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. "Balthazar..." But by the time she looked over, he was gone again. _Of course._

 

            Bela made it back to her cabin to open the store for a little bit. Chuck stopped by for a bit, noticed that she no longer had the scar, but didn't say anything. He knew something was happening at the camp, he always knew, but he couldn't lead on that he did. After all, the last time he brought up his books he was threatened by Dean. So, he purchased his toilet paper and left Bela alone to read her tattered copy of _The Sun Also Rises._

            The next visitor was none other than Dean Winchester, poking around the ammo basket. Bela peered up from her book and gave him a no-nonsense look, one that made him drop his hands back to his sides. "Bela." He greeted, his voice flat and stern. "How are you?"

            "Cut the crap, Dean." Bela sighed, putting the book down with a dog-eared corner. "You're here to talk to me about angels, aren't you?" Dean looked reluctant to answer, as if he was about to shake his head no. But, slowly, he nodded.

            "You always were good at reading people."  
            "Better than you, anyway." Bela said with a smile creeping over her lips. Her mind was flashing back to their first encounter, when she shot Sam after Dean claimed she wouldn't. They had both underestimated each other. Dean thought Bela was just some petty thief girl, and Bela thought Dean was just some stupid bloke with a vendetta and a hero complex. How wrong they had both been.

            "Just, be careful, Bela. Because Heaven's different these days. He might not be what you think for very long." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, as he was thinking about Cas and when he fell, how it was all his fault, but he didn't say a word. He just got quiet, fidgeted with his thigh holster, and sighed.

            "Why are you warning me, Dean?"

            "Because, Bela," Dean said with a pained smile, "even though we haven't gotten along the best... We're friends."

            "Friends..." Bela repeated, the word foreign and bitter on her tongue. She wasn't sure she'd ever had a friend in her life, and Dean Winchester was the last person she'd think to call one. But, she was too tired to argue. "Take your ammo and go, Dean." Bela ended up replying, picking her book back up. "I have some things to do."

            Dean nodded, reluctant to leave, but he obeyed her orders, walking back down the path with a few shotgun shells in his pocket. Once the hunter left, Bela closed up shop and walked back to her cabin, picking a few wildflowers that hadn't been trampled along the way. Decorating was impractical in these times, but she knew a few people did it anyway. And, a few daisies couldn't hurt. She went to go find a vase to put them in, though she couldn't let them rest in water, due to the fact that clean water was harder to come by these days. When she found one, she turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping the vase to the ground with a shatter.

            "B--Balthazar." She stuttered, trying to regain her composure quickly. "What brings you here?" The angel chuckled as Bela began picking up the flowers and the pieces of the ceramic that had cracked on the ground. When she had them all in her hands, she was surprised to find everything back in place, as if nothing had happened. _Bloody angels._

            "Well, you of course. Unless, you don't want me here. Then, I could go visit Castiel." Bela placed the vase down on an end table and turned around with a slow nod.

            "I think he's with the women right now. But you could always check." Balthazar shrugged and looked Bela up and down, his lips quivering more towards a frown.

            "Do you not want me here, Bela?" He asked, eyes looking sad. Bela shook her head, then crossed her arms over her chest.

            "I... I didn't say that. I... I would actually love for you to stay for dinner."

            "I don't eat, Bela." Balthazar replied with a small smile. "But, I'll join you." Bela backed up and nodded, going to grab a pot out of the fireplace. When she returned, she placed it on the table and sat down across from the angel, who was already sitting down. Bela kept quiet, eating quickly, and in silence, as she didn't really know what to do. She knew how to act around humans and demons and Croats, but she had never mingled with angels before.

            "Bela, you don't need to be so formal with me." Balthazar said, observing the way Bela ate her soup, scooping away from her and never slurping.

            "Old habits die hard."

            "I don't believe that." Balthazar shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on her. Bela couldn't help but think about what it would be like to kiss him again, to feel his lips on hers, to be next to him. It had been a few weeks since the last time she had been touched, and she had never experienced any sexual encounter that wasn't just a one-night stand. Nothing meant anything. But maybe, she thought, it would with him.

            "Balthazar..." Bela began, but closed her mouth soon after with a sigh. She didn't know how to say what she wanted, how she felt around Bal. She stood up, walked around behind his chair, then turned back when she figured out that he had popped up behind her. Angel powers would take a while for her to get used to.

            "Bela?"

            "How much do you want to kiss me right now?" She managed to ask, blushing a bit red at the cheeks. Balthazar frowned, then smiled with a chuckle.

            "On a scale of one to ten? Fifty. Fifty sounds about right." Soon, his lips found hers, and they were tangling arms around each other, fingers in hair, pushing until Bela's back hit the wall of the cabin, rough and splintery. "Sorry." Balthazar mumbled, apologizing if he had been too rough. Bela laughed a bit and shook her head.

            "No need to be sorry."

            Somehow, their clothes found their way onto the floor, their bodies hot and sweat-slicked against each other. Every touch was like a jolt of electricity, and Bela wondered if you could get high on happiness. Balthazar's hands teased their way all around her body, down her sides, lips on her neck, until his fingers found the warm slickness of her cunt. He pushed a finger inside and Bela cried out in pleasure, crushing her lips to Balthazar's to keep herself from getting too loud. Last thing she needed was half the camp thinking she was being eaten alive. Balthazar kissed her back, slipping his tongue into her mouth to deepen the kiss. For the first time in years, maybe for the first time in her whole life, Bela felt alive.

 

            The thief and the angel made love way more often than any couple at camp--though, not as often as Castiel's orgies, but Bela never counted those. That was anonymous group sex to attempt feeling good again. Of course, good moments never lasted very long in 2014. There was always the threat of attack, always the threat of famine. The campers were on edge after three members--three friends went missing. Most likely, they were bled on. Everyone mourned the loss and moved on, but tempers were clashing and the tension was high. Dean mostly kept with Cas, Bela with Bal, and the rest formed groups of three. Everyone had their own conflicting opinions on what they should do, how they should conduct themselves.

            To make a long story short, it was chaos. And chaos only leads to more problems. It was only a matter of time before Balthazar would fall, before the Croats would attack. The virus, according to the feeble radio broadcasts that sometimes trickled in, had made its way to Australia. It was official. The world was doomed.

            "Dean!" Castiel yelled out the door to his hut while Dean stormed away, "Maybe you just _should_ say yes."

            "Light this candle? Like Gabriel said? Look where that got him!" The hunter shouted back, storming off past Bela. Before Balthazar, she would have been on Cas' side. But now, she had something to live for. Something that made her feel alive. And she couldn't just let that go.

 

            There was a thunderstorm a week later. Drinking water got contaminated and several people fell ill. The camp was in disarray, and no one was watching Dean. He was angry, he was hurt, and he just wanted everything to stop. He was in a clearing in the trees when Bela found him, beginning a prayer to Michael, the archangel that could stop everything. The archangel that could destroy the world. But, before he could finish his words, Bela clamped a hand over his mouth. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

            "I'm tired, Bela." Dean spat after she lifted her dirt-dusted hand from his mouth. "And Sam's gone. There's no reason to keep the world this way."

            "Sometimes there's a little light in the darkness, Dean." Bela said with a sigh, clapping her hand on Dean's back. "And it took me a while to figure that out, but we'll... we'll get through this. It'll be okay." Dean didn't believe her. So, she let go and watched him walk off back to his cabin to drink himself to sleep.

            "A light in the darkness?" Balthazar said, popping out from behind a tree. "I like that."

            "You should. Because, you're the only thing keeping me going." Balthazar frowned at Bela's words and leaned against the tree.

            "You shouldn't say that. I may be an angel, but I'm not going to be around forever. I'll fall. I'll die. If Heaven doesn't want me alive, then I won't be." Bela's face fell, and she looked down at her hands.

            "Please don't leave."

            "I can't promise anything, Bela."

 

            Sure enough, Balthazar disappeared two weeks later. He was presumed dead by everyone. Bela felt hurt. She had been betrayed and her entire being felt empty. The light in the darkness went out, her only hope for survival. The last angel, at least, the last angel on their side, was gone. Castiel said it had something to do with interfering with charges, but Dean made some snide comment about why Castiel was still there. Thankfully, Bela still had some of the moonshine leftover from the other day in her room, and Dean Winchester knew about it.

            He came over just as soon as she was about to fall asleep, but she had been expecting him. "Dean." She greeted, her voice flat and cold, like she had never been in love. "Take it you're here for the juice?"

            "You're a mind reader, Talbot, that you are." Dean's words made her crack a small smile, and for a second she thought that maybe she wasn't so empty. But the ache in her chest was still so great that the smile didn't last for long. He took the flask from Bela's hands and raised it up to hers.

            "To the end of days."

            "To Armageddon." She answered, before clinking the metal in her hands against the metal in his. Before anyone could stop them, they drank, and they didn't stop until they were both on the floor, ready to await the inevitable blastwave. 


End file.
